


Leather Bonding

by wesleyfanfiction_archivist



Category: Angel: the Series, X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-06-22
Updated: 2005-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-12 08:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7094254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleyfanfiction_archivist/pseuds/wesleyfanfiction_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How does a guy like Wesley get a pair of handcuffs anyway? X-over with X-Men. Wesley/Cyclops</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leather Bonding

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [WesleyFanfiction.net](http://fanlore.org/wiki/WesleyFanFiction.Net). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [WesleyFanfiction.net collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wesleyfanfiction/profile).

Scott couldn’t believe that he had actually agreed to this. And actually, he technically hadn’t agreed to it at all. Had only given in after hours of Jubilee’s incessant whining that he had to take her shopping because Wolverine couldn't and he had apparently promised at some fictional point and, oh, could she maybe drive? He had managed to stick a very firm ‘no’ on that last one, at least.

They had still ended up at the mall though, him following Jubilee like he was being led off to a firing squad. Really she just needed someone to carry the myriad of packages she got. He wasn’t even going to try to understand. Just bear it and maybe double her training sessions in revenge.

That had been well over an hour ago. Now he was thinking about **tripling** the training sessions as he found that they had somehow ended up in a leather shop. Jackets and pants and belts and things he didn’t want to **think** about let alone openly acknowledge. Didn’t want to know **what** Jubilee could possibly want in a place like that. It was another thing he was going to studiously not think about.

Then Jubilee was shoving a pair of leather trousers into his hands and wouldn’t he look ‘just fabulous' in those? He was positive he had started gaping at that point. Rolled eyes were all he’d gotten for his reaction.

“Come on, Cyke, you wear spandex, for cripes sake.” She had looked at him far too smugly, thought she’d had the perfect argument to sway him no doubt.

Showed what she knew. Those uniforms were practical, hard wearing and no cloth to get in the way. They made sense. But these… these **things** that she was holding up supposedly temptingly were… Well, really something someone like him probably shouldn’t be wearing… Even if they were kind of nice, which he only admitted because Jubilee had made him. And no, he supposed it wouldn’t hurt to just try them on. But he drew the line at actually buying them.

So now he found himself browsing through a leather store, Jubilee gone because watching him ‘gush over’ the racks of leather was more boring than ‘that time Bobby had insisted he could drink a gallon of coke and I had to watch so he had proof’.

It wasn’t like this was his fault; she had been the one to **insist** that he give it a try. And he certainly couldn’t help it if he actually **liked** the leather, not like he had known how damn **good** he would look in it.

He was pouring over a rack of hardwearing bike leather when he was bumped into from the side.

“Oh, sorry,” a rather embarrassed sounding, very British voice told him.

He turned to face the man with a muttered ‘s’okay’. Came face to face with someone who looked just as out of place here as he did. They shared a blink before Scott reached a hand out amiably.

“Scott,” with a smile as he introduced himself.

The man didn’t respond for a moment, seeming surprised at the gesture before returning the handshake and a name. Wesley. He was blushing.

#

It was meant to be a simple thing. Into the store to get a new outfit to fit his new image. Pressed suits hardly suited a Rogue Demon Hunter after all. So just in, grab the bike leather, and out. No need to get into any embarrassing situations.

Of course embarrassing situations seemed to follow at his heels like a well trained dog that just couldn’t wait to bite you in the arse. He hadn’t expected the shop to have such an array of more…questionable selections. Like the leather handcuffs and whips that lined one wall. He couldn’t help that they caught his attention, making a slight blush cover his cheeks. He also couldn’t help it when he bumped into the man he hadn’t even noticed was there.

And now he was sitting in a small coffee shop with said man, Scott, and discussing the pros and cons of bike leather. He’d bought himself an outfit, though as far as he could see Scott hadn’t gotten any among all the other packages he seemed to be toting along. Packages that suggested he had a girlfriend somewhere in the mall so Wes really shouldn’t be picturing Scott in some of the more…exotic leather items. Then again it couldn’t hurt to just **think** , right? He was sure that the blush hadn’t left his face since he’d quite literally bumped into Scott in the store. But Scott seemed to be asking him a question and he really should be paying attention.

"I'm sorry?"

"I asked what kind of bike you had," Scott patiently repeated himself, seeming more amused than annoyed at Wesley's lack of attention.

"Oh. Actually it's parked just outside if you'd like to...," he trailed off as he glanced at the packages covering Scott's feet. "I mean... That is if you-"

Scott smiled. "Sure. Just let me drop these in the car."

"Of course." If anything the blush was only getting worse. And from the look on Scott's face he was positive he was about to be called 'adorable'. He blushed more. Scott broke out into a grin.

#

The bike had been so incredibly fabulous. Nothing to compare with his own...modified one back at the mansion but still really damn nice.

Wesley seemed nearly to beam with pride as he 'gushed' over the bike, to use Jubilee's word. Speaking of... He probably should have found Jubilee and told her where he would be. But it's not like he had exactly expected to ask - beg - Wesley to let him take the bike out for a spin. And he hadn't really expected Wesley to stammer out an agreement.

In short, he hadn't expected to be roaring down the road, wind whipping through his hair with a British guy clinging to his back. Not that he'd have it any other way of course, he just hadn't been expecting it.

But he did expect that Wesley didn't really have to be clinging quite so tightly. Or quite so closely, as he could feel the man pressed all along his back. Not that he was complaining about that either, mind. And he figured he would save Wes any potential embarrassment and assume that it was just the bike's vibrations that were getting to Wes. He could say the same thing about himself as well.

Until they went over a rough part of the road and Wes' hands seemed suddenly to be gripping a little lower than strictly necessary. He couldn't exactly blame reactions on the bike anymore after that.

Couldn't blame the bike when he bit his lip to unsuccessfully hold back a moan that rumbled against Wesley's chest. Couldn't blame the bike when Wesley took that as the encouragement it was and let a hand dip a little lower which made him press back against Wesley. More so than he already had been.

Unfortunately, he also couldn't blame the bike for wobbling a little at that point and he was definitely going to have to pull over soon.

#

Well this was certainly turning out differently than he'd thought. He'd thought about doing this with the good looking stranger Scott at the leather store but he'd never thought they'd **actually** be doing it. And not on the side of some deserted back road on his bike either.

But he was hardly going to complain when Scott had veered the bike to the side and pulled up. Had, in fact, instantly dropped his hand to press over the front of Scott's jeans and the bulge he knew he'd find there.

And things were actually going his way for once. About to have a good time with someone who hopefully didn't think him a complete idiot.

Until he happened to glance at one of the rear view mirrors and saw a gray van coming along the road at them. Which proceeded to make him yelp in a very unmanly way at the thought of being caught doing things that really shouldn't be done on the side of public roads where anyone could see and pull away from Scott, all but falling off the bike.

Scott seemed to jump a little at his performance - so much for someone who wouldn't think him a complete idiot - then looked back to see what Wes had. An expression of shock appeared over his features and Wes was sure he could hear a muttered curse.

But as he was mulling over that, the bike suddenly roared to life - after only one misfire - and Scott was streaking off into the distance. With his bike. And saddlebags. Bugger. **Now** things were going like he'd thought they would.

He was a little dazed as the gray van pulled up alongside him. He could make out a logo on the side that he hadn't noticed before. FOH. Friends of Humanity. Huh. ...Oh.

Well at least it explained the glasses in overcast weather.

#

He really hated shopping and this was most definitely the last time he took Jubilee out. Ever. A high-speed car chase on a stolen bike was not his idea of a good time. Well... Maybe it was a little bit fun but he'd have much rather stayed with Wesley. And **not** stolen the man's bike.

The worst part by far though was when he'd finally shaken the van and got back to the mall some many **many** hours later to find one very pissed off **whiny** Jubilee waiting for him.

All he could do was sigh, park the bike and take Jubilee to the candy store before heading back to the mansion.

After making a quick stop by the leather store, of course.

#

The long trek back to civilization took him till well after dark. They'd gotten further on his bike than he'd thought. He supposed he could use the exercise really.

By the time he was walking by the mall on the way to his nearby hotel, the stores were closed and the parking lot empty. Except for one silver bike. His bike!

He ran over to hug the non-life out of it and make sure it was okay. A note was attached to the seat.

_Sorry to take off so quick. Maybe next time?_

Signed Scott and sitting next to the note was a pair of leather handcuffs.

Wesley blushed crimson.


End file.
